The government plans to roll out a new curriculum that provides relationships education (RE) to primary school children, and relationships and sex education (RSE) to secondary school students by September 2020.

The new curriculum will be required in all UK schools, however parents may still be able to withdraw their children from the sex education, and faith schools will be permitted to teach their own ‘distinctive faith perspective’ on relationships.

This new curriculum, which was originally scheduled to be rolled out in September 2019, also covers lessons on cyberbullying, mental well-being and healthy lifestyles.

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Although the new guidelines are welcomed by education professionals and campaigners, some organisations fear that they go too far, and others are adamant that they aren’t bold enough.

But what does it mean to receive good (or bad) sex education?

What impact can it have on the rest of your life?

Johnathan*, 60, is the father of three grown-up sons and works in publishing.

This is what he remembers about sex and relationships education back in the 1970s and how it has shaped his relationships since then.

Did you receive any sex education at school?

All I can remember about the sex education at school was a rather glum biology teacher standing at the front of the class and going through the basics.

She managed to convey that the man puts his erect penis inside the woman’s vagina.

And I remember sitting there and thinking ‘but what happens next?’

Only after a while did it become clear that he would move in and out – and that was about the extent of my sex education.

Back in 1972, there were certainly no mentions of lesbian and gay sex, anal sex, oral sex, consent or pornography.

Did you learn anything about protection against sexually transmitted diseases or pregnancy?

I cant recall learning about contraception.

It was all very much framed as ‘this is what you do when you’re going to have a baby’.

Our sex education wasn’t delivered as ‘this is what you might need to know if you meet someone in the pub and decide you want to shag them’ – which of course might have been more useful for a room full of teenagers.

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For many years, because I hadn’t been taught anything about them, I thought that a condom was a kind of ring that you put round your penis so nothing could squeeze out.

I remember someone once saying ‘there’s a condom in the playground’ and we all shot out to have a look at it, and I just thought: ‘that’s a condom?’

It completely shattered what I’d thought a condom would look like.

We knew we should use it to stop pregnancy, but I don’t remember me or any of my friends at school being aware that condoms would protect against STIs.

‘There was absolutely no discussion of transgender issues that I was aware of.’ (Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

When did you first become aware that people can identify as LGBT?

I didn’t have any awareness of LGBT relationships until college.

People were away from family for the first time and people who’d known them all their lives, and it was easier to come out.

I remember being quite shocked at the sight of men kissing, partly because we never had any education around it.

No one told us that it was perfectly natural.

I was involved in left-wing politics and there was certainly more awareness of gay rights, although I’m not sure that the left actually embraced this in the beginning.

There was absolutely no discussion of transgender issues that I was aware of.

When did you realise how important it is to protect yourself from STIs?

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There have certainly been occasions where I haven’t worn a condom when I should’ve done, but I really became aware of the need for safe sex during the time of the AIDS crisis in the ’80s.

I would’ve been around 26.

For the younger generation, it’s probably difficult to envisage how devastating it was when it first started.

So many people were dying. It sent everyone into a complete panic.

I do remember speaking recently to a gay man who was explaining to me that during this particular time, he wouldn’t have anal intercourse. He was so aware of the risks of AIDS, he just wouldn’t do it.

There was a guy at my workplace who died of AIDS. He was bisexual.

I remember seeing him and being shocked because he’d changed so dramatically overnight.

What about the importance of consent?

I cannot remember ever being told about consent or getting advice about it.

That’s not to say that my generation were all running around being rapists or anything like that, but I think the idea of someone not consenting was quite alien.

I don’t mean we expected everyone to shag us, but putting yourself in a position where you were having sex with someone who didn’t want to wasn’t something we really thought about.

To someone my age, the idea that you can withdraw consent during sexual activity is quite strange.

I think the culture around sex and relationships has changed dramatically in my lifetime.

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What are your thoughts on porn?

In my opinion, the availability of pornography has expanded people’s sexual horizons in ways that might be good, but might also be bad.

People are much more conscious of sex and sexuality than they were in the ’70s.

By today’s standards, porn was incredibly mild when I was growing up.

Top shelf magazines would show women with their breasts exposed, but there were no couples and no penetration.

I remember going to Gatwick airport as a teenager with a group of friends, and one of us lifted a porn magazine from WH Smith’s.

We all scuttled off and sat on the grass to look at it.

Porn was sought-after in my childhood, but rarely found.

What about when you were in your 20s?

I can remember the first time I found ‘good’ porn. It was in a shop in Soho, and it was on VHS video.

It cost me £20, which in those days was a lot of money, but you could exchange it for half price on your next tape.

I kept thinking ‘this won’t be the real thing, I’ve been ripped off’ but I got it home, and it was.

It made such an impact and I remember the first time I saw the woman going down on the guy, and it was mind-blowing.

I went back and bought another tape, rather than exchanging the one I had, because I was worried that I’d get ripped off with next video.

The nature of porn has definitely changed.

There used to be more of an attempt to pretend that they were legitimate films with a plot and characters who just happened to have explicit sex.

Now, it’s just scenes.

I definitely think that I’d have a different relationship with sex if I’d been exposed to porn in the way that young people are today.

So many things – like anal sex – are now considered standard.

Back in the day, I never thought to expect my partner to do that.

The worrying factor for young people growing up and watching porn is that they think what they see is normal and it’s real.

Porn is an exaggeration of sex, it’s often portrayed as so casual – a woman being picked up off the street and then ending up in a gang bang – but that’s not real life.

Were you concerned about your sons consuming pornography as young people?

I know that my sons got sex education at school, but I don’t know what it consisted of – although I’m sure it was better and more comprehensive than mine.

I never took steps to stop my sons watching pornography and I never discussed it with them either.

I did worry about what they might be seeing, but I never checked their browsing histories (even though they were using a family PC in the study).

Thinking about it now, I should’ve discussed porn with them and how it’s not like real life.

My wife spoke to each of the boys about contraception when she was driving them to university, although we did know that one of them was already sexually active.

I suppose we just trusted them to be sensible.

Looking back now, I wish I’d been the one to have those conversations with them. I should’ve been better at talking to them about intimate issues.

I think – to be perfectly blunt – I just bottled it when it came to talking to my kids about sex, and I really hope that hasn’t had a detrimental effect on their lives.

My parents never mentioned sex to me.

Do you believe that children should receive comprehensive sex and relationships education, and should parents have the right to stop their children accessing it?

I have no dispute with compulsory sex and relationships education in school and I don’t think parents should be able to withdraw their children from these lessons.

It’s an important part of the education process.

Should parents be free to impose their religious views on their children? Some religions see that as absolutely mandatory, but I think it’s damaging to the child.

I find it hard to support the idea that because your parents believe in this religion, you should be denied this crucial knowledge.

Apart from anything else, it isolates the child at school.

Children are very conscious of who the insiders and the outsiders are, and if you’re the child who hasn’t had the sex and relationships class, everyone will know and you might become the object of derision and bullying.

What parent wants that for their child?

Co-ed schools are incredibly important. I don’t agree with same sex schools.

Children and young people must be able to navigate relationships with the opposite sex, not just in the academic sense but also in the playground and in social situations.